


wouldn't change (one thing)

by LizMikaelson



Category: Legacies (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, never done that before, set after 2 01, sorry if i got it wrong, they get arrested
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-16 11:02:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21035186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizMikaelson/pseuds/LizMikaelson
Summary: the one where lizzie saltzman has game, hope mikaelson can’t say no to her and new memories are better than lost ones





	wouldn't change (one thing)

**Author's Note:**

> spontaneously written in a day, so please excuse all mistakes

A girl walks towards her, after the match. 

It’s Lizzie Saltzman.

Her heart skips a beat.

Since she’s returned from hell, this is the first person from the before who’s walked towards her, not away.

Not like Dorian, concerned, but disinterested.

Not like Landon, too caught up in a new world.

Not like Alaric, distracted by his own worries.

Lizzie straddles the bench in front of her, a smile on her face. “Good game, Marshall.”

They lost.

Most probably because there was definitely magic at play.

The new headmaster seems to condone it.

That’s going to be a problem, but one for another day.

“Thank you, Saltzman,” she catches herself just in time. Lizzie. Lizzie. Saltzman.

“You should definitely call me Lizzie,” Lizzie smirks, with an expression Hope remembers all too well. It’s not usually directed at her.

“Congratulations on your victory.”

“Thank you,” Lizzie pauses, sending her a prompting glance.

“Andrea,” Hope finishes, more than a little intrigued. Or nervous. Maybe both. 

“Thank you, Andrea. Do you have plans Friday night?”

“No,” Hope manages, barely, and Lizzie smiles that smile, again.

“Great,” she says, getting up. “You can take me out for dinner. 8 o’clock at the Mystic Grill.”

“I-,” Hope doesn’t even know where to begin.

“I’m not single? Not into girls? Not interested?”

“None of that,” Hope manages. There’s not really a box for _we were enemies and then friends before I jumped into hell._

“In that case, see you then.”

She seriously debates chickening out several times during the week. But Lizzie doesn’t deserve that.

Lizzie Saltzman is not the kind of girl you stand up.

And she remembers the heartbroken expression on Lizzie's face, after idiot boys and stupid girl had left her behind, and she won't be the cause of that. 

So, instead, she scours the mansion until she finds a leather jacket that’s only slightly too big and a red lipstick that she thinks must’ve belonged to Aunt Rebecca.

Belongs to Aunt Rebecca.

Her aunt is still alive, after all.

Hope’s the problem.

And at eight o’clock on Friday night, Hope Mikaelson, as Andrea Marshall, meets Elizabeth Saltzman at the Mystic Grill.

This, Hope thinks, is bound to end terribly.

She has more fun than she expected. She thought she’d have to hold herself back, be constantly aware.

But Lizzie’s a fun date.

She doesn’t press about Hope’s family, or her past, when she changes the subject, but Hope tells her that she moved here from New Orleans.

And they talk about music and travel and life, and it’s the best night of the second part of Hope’s life.

(It's in the top ten of all of Hope's life, easy.)

The bartender, the last employee still present, taps on their table. “We’re closing, ladies.”

Lizzie’s body is close to her, only inches between them. “Drive me home?” she requests, standing outside of the grill, illuminated by the dim lights of the street.

And Lizzie is her friend.

Her friend who would not be here if she knew the truth.

But in that moment, all Hope thinks is that Lizzie looks beautiful.

“Of course,” she replies.

They’re just out of town when Lizzie suddenly shifts in her seat. “Actually, take a right here,” she says.

Hope silently thinks that she was right, at seven, hiding far too many dark secrets, when she knew that she couldn’t be friends with Lizzie Saltzman. She couldn’t ever have said no to her then.

She still can’t, now.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” Lizzie places a confident hand on her leg. “Left here.” And Hope has seen Lizzie flirt with countless boys and girls over the years, has hated all of them for no reason at all, and can blame none of them for being unable to resist her.

They end up at a tiny lake Hope didn’t even know about.

“I didn’t know this place,” she comments, helping Lizzie out of the car.

Lizzie slips out of her heels, leads her closer to the water. “Well, you are new in town. I’m obligated to show you around.”

Their feet are in the water, and the night is quiet, and Lizzie smirks, and Hope knows she’s in trouble.

“Want to go for a swim, Marshall?”

“I didn’t bring a bathing suit to go out to dinner, Saltzman.”

Lizzie rolls her eyes, a smile crossing her face. “Wear your underwear.”

“It’s cold,” Hope weakly objects.

“It’s ninety degrees,” Lizzie reaches for the hem of her dress, pulling it over her head. “I’m going swimming. You’re more than welcome to join me.”

Hope is trying very, very, very hard, not to look at Lizzie, standing there in blue lace lingerie. She averts her eyes, almost, almost quickly enough. Not quite.

Lizzie steps closer, her fingers tracing over Hope’s jaw and lingering under her chin, tilting her face upwards until their gazes meet. “This is a date, Marshall. I’d be offended if you didn’t look.”

And before she can even reply, a smirk crosses Lizzie’s face. “Race you.”

Hope is screwed.

She should also really learn how to tell Lizzie Saltzman no.

The sarcastic part of her mind reminds her that it might help if she wanted to. She doesn’t.

So instead, she strips out of her shirt and her jeans, and follows Lizzie into the lake.

And it’s surprisingly easy to catch up to Lizzie, not all that far out in the water. "Glad you changed your mind," she smiles and swims closer. 

“There are things you don’t know about me,” Hope confesses, the water around them. Lizzie’s hand cups her face, and she smiles, very gently.

“We all have our secrets.”

And in the middle of Friday night, in a lake where they’re not supposed to be, against rules and reason, Hope Mikaelson kisses Lizzie Saltzman.

Lizzie’s lips are soft against hers, and Hope feels alive, more alive than she has maybe ever felt.

It’s everything she’s never known she’s wanted.

And everything she’ll ever want, from now on.

She doesn’t know how much time passes until they get out of the water, but they end up on the shore, lying next to each other, their hands intertwined.

“Did you have a good summer?” Hope asks, because Lizzie is a little different, and she needs to know.

Lizzie sighs, very softly. “I wasn’t always my best last year. So I’ve been trying to get better.”

Hope squeezes her hand, unsure of what the right words are. “You seem pretty amazing to me,” she says.

Lizzie shrugs, and a breeze of cold air sweeps over them, and she shivers. Hope reaches for her jacket, still within reach, and holds it out to Lizzie.

“Gallant,” Lizzie teases, but she slips the jacket on. “What about you, Andrea? How was your summer?”

And Hope should lie, but she doesn’t. “Pretty lonely.”

Lizzie turns until they’re face to face. “New town. You should probably make some friends.”

“Are you volunteering, Miss Saltzman?” Hope teases.

“Maybe,” Lizzie whispers, and the moment feels magical, and Hope never wants it to end.

Behind them, blue lights flash and she can hear sirens. “Mystic Falls Police Department, don’t move,” a voice orders.

“Oh fuck,” Lizzie says, “we should probably run. It’s technically not permitted to be here after dark.”

There’s no way they can outrun the two cops already halfway down the hill. “I don’t think we have much of a shot at running,” Hope sighs.

Getting arrested does not go onto her list of pleasant experiences.

Even if she could imagine much worse company than Lizzie Saltzman, her cheeks still flushed, her lips still a little swollen, and her eyes still a little wild.

Blue lights flash above them, and Hope thinks that two juvenile cops arresting them is total overkill, and debates and debates on how she can get them out of this mess.

Using magic in front of Lizzie is probably out of the question.

Lizzie could siphon every spell she’d try to cast, and she just might, if a more or less random girl just starts performing magic next to her.

“We’re going to have to call your parents,” one of the cops says. “We’ll need names and addresses.”

“I’m an orphan,” Hope says. "Legally emancipated and all that." She forged the documents herself. They're bulletproof. 

“Lucky you,” Lizzie says, and looks struck with realisation a second later and Hope laughs, because she has heard _my condolences _more times than she can count, and she has missed, missed, missed Lizzie Saltzman, who is blunt and says the wrong things at the wrong time.

“I’m sorry,” Lizzie apologises, “I get nervous, sometimes.”

Hope smiles at her. “You’ve been making me nervous all night. Turnabout’s fair play, and all that.”

Lizzie smiles back, and Hope couldn’t care less that they just got arrested.

“And your parents?” the cop asks.

Lizzie sighs. “You can call my dad. My mother is out of the country.”

God, Alaric is going to murder her if he ever finds out that she’s the reason Lizzie got arrested.

It’ll be all disappointed face, his crossbow and an arrow to the heart.

Lizzie shrugs. “It’s fine,” she says, “he’s used to me being the bad daughter."

And the expression on Lizzie’s face is broken.

In that moment, Hope Mikaelson makes several decisions.

The whole school might be better off without her, but Lizzie Saltzman isn’t. And that’s all she’s ever needed.

They’re getting out of here.

And she’s going to make sure that everyone gets their memories back, so that Alaric knows exactly who she is when she screams at him that he needs to be a better father.

She’s been out of her cuffs since thirty seconds after the car drove off - thank you, Uncle Kol-, but Lizzie probably won’t take too kindly to it if Hope just starts casting.

“Josie’s not exactly a saint, either,” she comments, and moves her hand discreetly, until its is placed atop Lizzie’s.

“Would you get us out of here?” she requests, and takes her magic, and pushes.

And Hope can feel the moment Lizzie starts taking and breathes out a sigh of relief. She’s been sharing her magic with the Saltzman sisters since she was a child.

And for the first time in weeks, the burden of her powers, nature’s lopphole, stronger than anyone should be, isn’t only on her shoulders anymore.

Lizzie takes, and Hope breathes.

Two minutes later, the car is on its way without them, its passengers certain that they encountered no one, thanks to Lizzie’s memory charm.

“So,” Lizzie says, “want to explain to me why I just siphoned from a supernatural power house and how you know my sister’s name?”

Hope sighs. Truth time. “What do you know about Malivore?”

And so she tells Lizzie their story, every single part of it.

She doesn’t know quite what she’s expecting.

But it’s not Lizzie dropping a gentle kiss on her lips.

“I guess it’s time for some new memories until I get the old ones back. Welcome home, Hope Mikaelson.”

And Hope is home.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on twitter @liz_mikaelson or let me know in the comments what you thought


End file.
